


Give Me Novacaine

by sistercacao



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Language, M/M, POV First Person, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 22:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15471582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sistercacao/pseuds/sistercacao
Summary: Duo wakes up in a hospital bed instead of the Oz prison where he was sentenced to death, saved by Heero Yuy, the most unlikely guardian angel any guy could ask for. And the night just gets stranger from there.





	Give Me Novacaine

When I woke up, I was in a hospital. I was alone. And I had no idea where my clothes were.

This had really been a fucking day. A real peach of an evening. Mind you, I didn’t exactly remember much of it, the wits had been pretty well knocked out of me by day two of my all-expenses-paid Oz prison vacation, but what I _could_ remember started with a gun being pointed right between my eyes. And behind that gun had been...

Heero Yuy. Of all goddamn people. Apparently not even self-destructing could take out a guy like him. Probably nothing short of a nuclear blast could. He was like a cockroach that way. A cockroach with a real nice pair of eyes.

And that’s what I remembered first: Heero’s blue eyes over the barrel of the gun pointed at my head, lit from behind by the yellow gleam of the florescent lights in the hallway, looking like the goddamn angel of death.

He had risen out of the grave to come and shoot me before I could spill my soul to the Oz interrogators. I didn’t know if he knew they had already given the authorization to execute me.

And I hadn’t said _shit_ , by the way.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. I had said a _lot_ of shit, actually, some of which I was particularly proud of. I had come up with quite a few creative new ways to tell people to fuck themselves, for example.

But I hadn’t said anything _valuable_ , and I was a little hurt that Heero had thought I might. He must have thought I was really incompetent. Was it too much to ask this guy to give me a _little_ respect? Well, he’d had a gun pointed at me and an expression on his face that said he definitely intended to use it, so I guess not. Oh well. Can’t win ‘em all, right?

Better him than them, at least. Better it was someone I thought was a friend. Hell, better to find out at the end of it all that he was still alive, that he hadn’t managed to wipe himself off the face of the Earth with the push of a button. I had thought about him a lot in the weeks after the fiasco in Siberia, enough that I’d had trouble mustering up some anger at the fact that he was about to shoot me. Or maybe my brains were too scrambled to do it for me.

But then his eyes had shifted and the next thing I knew he was grabbing me under the arms and dragging me out of the cell, and right about when I realized that the asshole was _rescuing me_ my memory went fuzzy again. I vaguely remembered escaping that godforsaken place, Heero holding me up because I was too damn discombobulated to make it out of there under my own power. I had thought, hell, maybe he likes me a little bit after all.

And then I had really gone under and the next thing I knew, I was waking up here, laid out on a hospital cot, and I was pretty much naked and Heero Yuy was nowhere to be found.

I wasn’t exactly sure where to start with the strange turn of events my day had taken, so I started with a run-down of my injuries. There was an uncomfortable crunch beneath the bandages wrapped around my chest that were probably the remains of a couple of ribs. I had a dull pain in my lower abdomen where the delightful prison staff had taken turns dancing on me-- so we could add internal bleeding to the list of party favors. I weakly brought my arms up to look at them. They were covered in gauze, but the bits of skin I could see were a lovely shade of purple. Damn, I knew they had messed me up, but I was looking like a science experiment here.

And just who had done all this wrapping while I was oh-so-conveniently unconscious? A nurse with resistance sympathies? My would-be executioner himself? I had a sudden, bizarre image of Heero decked out in a nurse’s uniform with the little white hat and I broke out into a laugh that came out as a pained wheeze. Yeah, right. There was no goddamn way Heero had wanted to be near me long enough to do this shit.

Then again, this was a weird night.

In any case, I decided the second order of business was to get upright, a feat that took a fair amount of work when every square inch of my body felt like it would rather fall off than move. It was more of a half-hearted slump up onto my elbows, then a while to wait for the room to stop spinning, and finally a grand finale of biting down on a scream as I heaved myself the rest of the way up with arms that might as well have been made of straw, for all the good they did me.

I felt a pull on my wrist and tugged it to find an IV drip plugged into me. Yeck, I hated these things. I’m sure I had a nice constellation of holes on my wrists from all the crap they injected into me at the Oz prison. I was probably well on my way to growing a second head from all those chemicals, but at least I was alive. And hey, maybe a second pair of eyes would help me watch my damn back and not get caught again, right?

I hoped the IV was full of antibiotics and not pain medication. But judging from the loopty-loops my sight was doing when I tried to move a little, I probably was not so lucky. Did Yuy do that too? That wasn’t fucking fair. God knows if the tables were turned he wouldn’t have let me stick a syringe full of morphine anywhere near him. Guess he thought I was too soft to handle a little torture.

I really wanted some fucking clothes. I would have loved my dignity too, while we were at it, but I probably left that behind in the prison. I could at least do better than lying on this shitty cot in a shitty gown like an invalid, though. I was at _least_ semi-valid.

Christ, even my jokes were injured.

I felt like a drunk mess, but I made out a shape in the corner of the room that looked like a chair, and on it was a pile of black, squirming mass that might have been my clothes. Hey, all right, we were getting somewhere. Now I just had to get off this cot.

Easier said than done, of course. I tried slipping one leg off the cot and onto the ground, testing my weight. My knees felt ready to buckle, a really pleasant jolt of pins and needles shooting up my entire body at the contact with the floor. I felt like one of those little antelopes that needs to stand up and run five minutes after being born, or get eaten. Right now, my money was on the latter.

I briefly wondered, struggling to get the hell up off the bed, how long I was going to have this room to myself. Was Heero still around somewhere? Was anyone? Knowing Heero, he might have broken into an abandoned wing of a hospital somewhere and left me to my own devices. If I didn’t figure out how to get moving soon, I really was going to end up like that baby antelope after all.

It was probably an hour later, heaving myself bit by bit along the wall, the damn IV dragging behind me like an umbilical cord, that I finally reached the chair, which, I was fucking overjoyed to find, actually _did_ have my clothes on it.

I picked up my shirt, only to find it had a nice, long tear all the way up the front, like someone had cut it open with a pair of scissors.

That son of a _bitch_. The fucking _nerve_ of that guy!

“What the hell are you doing?”

I spun to face the door where the voice had come from, and nearly passed out for my effort. The room swirled around me, and I fell back hard into the chair. God, this was humiliating.

Heero was on me in an instant, strong hands wrapping around my arms, hauling me up. He held me there, hanging off him like a rag doll, glaring at me like he was trying to make me catch fire.

“You ruined my shirt, asshole.”

Now, that was the kind of thing you’d say if you were trying to get Heero Yuy to punch you in the mouth. And honestly, I was kind of hoping for it. I had no other way to make sense of the way Heero was acting, mad as hell, but also holding my arms just under where the bandages stopped, like he didn’t want to grab me where it hurt.

“Duo, get back in bed.”

“I want my clothes.”

I knew I sounded pathetic. But I was not about to tell him it had taken an hour of full concentration and all the energy left in my fucked-up body to get there, and I sure as hell wasn’t leaving empty-handed for my trouble. After I was wearing whatever wasn’t cut to pieces again, though, I was probably going to pass out for a couple of days.

Heero wasn’t having any of it. He swung an arm around me, above the bandages around my chest, and pulled me back to the cot, like I didn’t weigh anything. I fought him with everything I had, which wasn’t much. I thought I could hear something crunch in my arm as I pushed against him, some fracture I was only making worse in my futile attempt to escape. This would be the part where the lion caught the little baby antelope by the neck and bit down. Lights out, Maxwell.

Heero shoved me back on the bed, pressing me down with a hand.

“Don’t get up.”

I felt his fingers twitch against my shoulder, like he was trying not to reach for a gun to force me to stay put. Thankfully, he restrained himself. I’d had enough of Heero shoving guns in my face for one lifetime.

Then, he went over to the chair himself. I watched him from the bed, wishing I could shoot him. Honestly, I hated him in that moment, hated him doing anything for me, anything for my own good. It didn’t make any sense. Why the hell had he saved my ass? Why was he here?

He took one look at my shirt and tossed it unceremoniously to the ground. He inspected what looked like my pants, and did the same. Suddenly, he threw something at me, and I caught it with shaky hands. Underwear. How kind.

He stood in the corner, staring at the wall, as I worked my boxers back on as quickly as I could. I realized then that he was the one who had cut my clothes off, who had dressed all my wounds, who had put this damn hospital gown on me. And now, he was trying to let me have a little bit of dignity back.

For Heero, that was unbelievably kind. And totally out of left field.

I felt about as good as I could manage with something on under the gown, and fell back against the bed, the fight just about out of me. Heero turned from the wall and came over to stand at the edge of the bed. He started tugging at the edges of the hospital gown, pushing it up.

“What the hell, Heero?” I said, my hands flying up to attempt to stop him, futile as it was. “Get off me!”

“I need to check your dressings. You probably opened something back up.”

“I’m fine!”

He was pressing down on my hip with one hand, the other pulling the gown up. It was too close, far too close. It was like in the hours I had been unconscious in this hospital room Heero had started feeling entitled to inspect me, like I was a thing he owned.

No fucking, way, bucko. I was not Heero’s fucking gundam, he couldn’t just touch me any which way he pleased. I might have been a broken down piece of shit, pieces of me lying all over the place, but I was not a machine he could just open up and tinker with.

“ _Get the fuck off me_!”

To my surprise, he shot up off the bed, his hands up, as if in surrender. I was not expecting to win the fight so suddenly, and I felt my face get hot, angry and embarrassed. I shifted away from him, rolling gingerly onto my side. It hurt like a fucking bitch, and I grit my teeth over the set of curse words ready to spill out of me.

It was a long time before I spoke again, the two of us just silent in that cold hospital room.

“I didn’t tell them anything, you know.”

I don’t know why I thought this was so important. Okay, yeah I did. It mattered to me that Heero knew I hadn’t given up easy. Hadn’t given _him_ up easy, because that was what we were talking about. It mattered to me that he knew I was still an ally. Or a friend, or whatever the hell.

He didn’t say anything. I just heard his even breathing behind me somewhere. I tried to pick his silence apart to see what it meant. Did he believe me? If he didn’t, then why the hell was I here, and not a smear on the floor of the Oz Motel?

“Why did you rescue me?”

When Heero didn’t answer me, _again_ , I peered as well as I could over my shoulder to see him standing there, looking at me with a strange expression. Like he didn’t know the answer himself.

I rolled gingerly back over, propping myself up on my elbows, peering at him.

“Well?”

He just stared. It was like he hadn’t even thought of the _why_. Like the part where he didn’t shoot me and instead dragged me out of there, putting himself and the mission in jeopardy just for one guy he barely knew was just some spur of the moment thing, some urge he had. Like something else other than reason had taken over.

I could tell the realization was working its way through him. It was like the idea that he might _like_ me, maybe even more than he liked his missions, had just occurred to him for the first time. Hell, it was occuring to _me_ for the first time, and I wasn’t sure how it made me feel. Good and bad at the same time. Happy, and freaked out. Like if I kept asking questions, I would find out something too important for either of us to take back.

I decided to give both of us a lifeline.

“I guess you do owe me one.”

Heero took an experimental step toward the bed.

“What?”

“I busted you out of prison, one. Two, you ransacked my gundam for parts.”

“I took out that Leo that was about to attack you,” Heero added.

“Yeah, so we’re even on _one_ count, buddy. That still leaves the prison breakout.”

Heero took a step forward. He didn’t look angry anymore.

“Can I look at your injuries, Duo?”

I think that might have been the first time he’d asked me for a damn thing. And something about his eyes, the tense set of his shoulders as he said it, made me not want to put up a fight anymore.

I fixed my gaze somewhere else in the room.

“Whatever. Be quick about it.”

Heero sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching for the gown, but I reached for it first.

“I got it.”

I shrugged out of the gown as best I could, and when it was off, I made a show of putting my weak, purple arms behind my head, like this was the most relaxing thing I could imagine. Heero reached for me again, then paused. His eyes flickered up to my face.

“Okay?”

Damn, where was that consideration when he’d stolen parts from Deathscythe? He hadn’t bothered to ask if it was okay then. Or if it was okay to blow himself up in front of me. Or to chop up my only good set of clothes.

I shrugged. “Yeah.”

His hands were warm against my stomach as he slowly unwrapped the bandage around my abdomen. I didn’t bother looking down to assess the damage myself. I knew it was bad. He pressed a little too hard against the shattered edge of a rib and I hissed.

“Sorry.”

His hands were lighter after that.

It wasn’t just broken ribs and internal bleeding. He’d stitched me up in a couple of places. I could feel his fingers brush over the sutures. Funny, I couldn’t remember the part where they sliced me up. The whole thing was rather hazy. My brain trying to show me mercy, I guess.

God, this was probably the nicest thing anyone had done for me since G let me steal a gundam in the first place. Maybe since Sister Helen had braided my hair. That it was coming from a guy who I thought was dead, who I thought had tolerated me at best and more likely hated my guts…

Maybe he really did die, and this was a different Heero Yuy.

Or maybe I did.

“Let me see your arm,” he said, without much authority in it. His voice was quiet. I realized he had wrapped the bandages back around my stomach. Funny, I hadn’t really noticed him doing it, he really had been trying to be gentle for my sake.

I pulled my arms out from behind my head and held them out for inspection.

“I think I’ve got a fracture here,” I said, turning my forearm over.

“I can splint it.”

And so I let him. I watched his eyebrows curve inward as he worked, his concentration drawing lines on his face. The drugs and the exhaustion and the absolute unreality of it all conspired against me, and I ended up just staring at him, long after he was finished with my arm. Long after he had noticed me looking at him and stared back, looming over me on the bed.

“You’re much happier to kill yourself than kill anyone else, you know that, right?” I whispered.

He snorted.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“But you’re not very good at either.”

I thought I saw the beginning of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Go to hell, Duo.”

“I was trying, asshole. You interrupted me.”

“Duo.”

“Stick around, I just might succeed next time.”

His hands, which had been loosely holding my wrists, tightened suddenly.

“Stop.”

“Why did you rescue me, Yuy? You want to be friends now, all of a sudden?”

His eyes were hard. “No.”

“Then what the hell do you--”

The rest of that question was pressed against Heero’s mouth, which was suddenly on mine. He pressed my wrists painfully hard against the bed, apparently no longer giving a shit about the arm he just took the time to fix up. His lips were warm and dry, and he slid his tongue inside my mouth and instead of biting it or kicking him or a million other things I could have done, I opened my mouth wider for him.

Nothing made any sense. This wasn’t what I wanted. Right? This couldn’t have been what it all meant, for me or for him. Heero didn’t want _me._ Right?

God, I had no idea anymore. About anything. About Heero, or myself.

The bed creaked dangerously as Heero climbed fully onto it, his knee sliding between my legs. He sucked my lower lip between his teeth and bit down. I probably tasted like blood, like shrapnel, like the half-dead loser that I was.

Heero tasted like fear, and danger. Like emotions I was afraid to feel. Like something familiar, maybe something I’d had once and lost.

It was painfully obvious with only my underwear on how much this affected me. Heero’s thigh pressed against my cock and the instant I knew I was hard, so did he. He pulled away from me and looked down at me, his lips wet, his eyes wild.

“Duo…”

His eyes flickered down to the bandages around my waist. I watched him lower himself down to press his mouth against the bruises blossoming around the edges of the wrapping, his hands finally releasing my wrists. He wrapped his fingers around the edges of my boxers, his breath so warm against the skin just above them.

“Heero,” I breathed, not sure if I was asking him to stop. Or to never, ever stop.

“Let me, Duo,” he said, his fingers twitching against my stomach. Trying not to reach for that gun again. Trying to ask, instead of take. “Please, let me.”

So I let him. I propped myself up to watch him pull my cock out of my underwear and wrap his mouth around it, because I wasn’t sure I would believe this ever happened later if I didn’t watch it happen with my own eyes. I watched the movement of his head as he took me fully in his mouth, holding me in place with one hand wrapped around the base of the shaft. I watched him slide up and down as he sucked me, pressing his tongue hard against the vein under the head, his eyes closed like he wanted to remember this only by the way my cock felt between his lips, the way my breath caught as he worked me.

Everything hurt, and nothing hurt. I was terrified and confused and angry and miserable and maybe also crazy about Heero, maybe crazy about him this whole time. Maybe, but I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t think I could, like if I decided I wanted him then my whole carefully built universe would come crashing down around me. Like if I decided this was important, he was important, then I wouldn’t be able to go on, running headlong toward death with the kind of glee that only comes when you’re sure you’re fucking worthless and there’s no one else alive who’ll give a shit if you’re gone.

So I focused instead on the swiftly building pleasure inside me, the rising pressure in my gut and the blood rushing to my cock as he took me in his mouth, again and again. He was quiet, and so I was quiet, choking back my moans, not daring to say his name. I didn’t even warn him as I came, tensing beneath him, shuddering into his mouth. He swallowed me dutifully, like it was a matter of course. I let my head fall back against the cot, seeing stars. The exhaustion was starting to creep up on me.

Heero leaned over me, reaching for my arms. He slid one through the sleeve of the hospital gown, then the other. I gazed at him, my breath still short, my heart still wrung out and hammering against my cracked ribs. He reached around, grabbing for the thin blanket, and pulled it up to my waist.

“Heero?”

He peered down at me, his expression inscrutable. A hand reached out and fingers pressed softly against my mouth. A little part of me was hoping he would kiss me again. But after a moment, he climbed carefully over me and slid off the cot.

“You need to rest,” he said. “Get some sleep.”

“Where are you--”

“I’ll be here, Duo.”

Already, without him here in the bed with me, it seemed impossible that he had just been touching me. That I had let him. It seemed like the kind of thing drugs and delirium could make you imagine had happened. Maybe my mind would block this out too, so I could protect myself. So I could keep running toward death, hoping it would catch me.

But I had seen it all with my own eyes. I had felt his lips wrapped around my cock as I came. I had tasted his kiss. Even if those faded to dreams, I would still have those memories. Somewhere deep down, I would remember.

I would remember.

My eyes slid shut then, and I faded off to dreamless sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this part of the series is really the only one I could ever see *something* happening between Duo and Heero, and I always wanted to explore that possibility. I've never really even read a fic about what could have happened between Heero busting Duo out of prison and the next day in the hospital, so like... yeah... here you go.


End file.
